From the Ritz to the Rubble
by rdegrassif
Summary: When Julia Goldsworthy gets accused of something serious how will she handel it?  Rated T just in case and language ;


**Julia POV**

_Julia Goldsworthy 10/4/2035 _

_Mrs. Dawes English_

_Hi, hello. My name is Julia. I'm 15 years old, and a little bit neurotic. I live in Ontario, Canada, where my parents have gone since they were in high school. My parent's names are Clare and Eli, and I have one sibling. She is four and her name is Nicoletta. I am in grade 10, and _

I glanced up to see Mrs. Dawes in front of me examining my bored expression while writing the dullest essay about myself EVER. "Ms. Goldsworthy, your writing passage lacks… ah…. Creativity. I am quite surprised coming from one of the best artists in the school." I tried to smile but a mere half smile emerged. She lightly tapped my paper. "Get going," She ordered before walking up the space between desks. I pushed my wavy black hair behind my ear. I pushed my chair back getting up and grabbing the hall pass. I walked down the hallway slowly taking my time to the ladies room. I passed a boy with a long sleeve shirt that read, "Increase the Peace" pushed up to his elbows. He smiled and showed his brilliant white teeth. His skin was light brown and had short, shaggy, black hair and soft brown eyes. He turned the other way jogging to catch up with me, who was picking up the pace through the hallway. "Hey," He said as he was struggling to keep up with me. "I'm Oliver." "Julia," I mumbled under my breath. "Uh, Oliver Torres." He lightly held my arm so I would stop and turn around. I rolled my eyes as I spun around to look at him. "Yes?' "Uh, so, where are ya goin?" "Sorry, I don't speak slang." "Uh, I mean, where are you going?" "Wonderland." I said sarcastically. He chuckled lightly and looked down at his face. I could tell that for once a guy wasn't going to try lame flirting techniques. "Where else? The bathroom." I laughed. He looked up at me and we just stared for a couple of seconds. "Uh, you have really cool eyes." Of course, the first thing they always noticed was my different colored eyes. My left was dark green, my right, blue. "Like a husky," I tried to laugh. "Well, I uh, think you're prettier than a husky." There it went. Another lame flirtation device. "Nice, I'm glad to know I'm prettier than a dog." I said coldly. "Oh, uh, no I didn't mean it like that," He tried to say. "Your eyes are unique, pretty. Nothing I've ever seen before." "Hm, an Oliver Torres original." I laughed. "See you around?" He asked. He gave up on trying being slick and just, was, normal. I liked that a lot. "Guess you will," I said smirking the classic half-smile smirk that my father used all of the time as a teenager. He raised an eyebrow and smiled. I walked backwards two feet than spun around and turned around the corner. I looked around to check if he was behind me. "Yes…" I hissed silently to myself.

I walked in the bathroom and noticed nobody was present, so I stood in front of the mirror above the sink, which was tilted slightly forward so girls can see their whole bodies. This, of course, made the superficial girls even more upset because the mirror sometimes distorts figures if you stand too far away, which makes you look "fat" if you have curves. I, on the other hand, am a freaking stick, and wish I were curvier. That's why I like standing in front of that mirror. I examined myself thoroughly. I usually don't care what I look like, but I decided I might as well take a glance. My hair was almost down to my butt, and I have a too big grey sweater pushed up to my elbows and black leggings that looked like stockings because you couldn't see where they stop. I'm not in to the slutty fashion business, so I make sure my sweater didn't come above my butt so people can see just my ass and leggings. I noticed I slouch so I tried to straighten up. I scanned my body and noticed my shoelace on one of my doc martens were untied. I quickly bent down to tie it when a tall girl with dark blue eyes and light brown burnt hair walked in. I could tell it was originally curly but she straightened it to death until it was overcooked into ugly strings. She walked over to the mirror next to me and turned sideways holding her stomach. She sucked it in as much as possible, which didn't take much because she was almost as skinny as me. "Ugh, god I hate you," I looked up startled and confused. "You're so skinny! What's your secret? If you throw up, I totally get it. We… all have our reasons." "Uhm, no. I guess I was just born this way," I said slowly. "Honey, you don't have to cover it up. It's totally obvious. I mean, I'm hoping you weren't born a bony freak." She laughed at herself and combed her ruined hair with her fingers. "No, I'm perfectly content with myself. It's you I'm worried about though, dear. You're looking a little lumpy. I smirked and walked out of the bathroom confidently. I felt her bitchy eyes on my back, glaring, until I was out of site. As soon as I got over myself, I realized, the genius that I am, left the hall pass in the bathroom. I laughed at my ignorance and jogged back into the bathroom. The girl wasn't in front of the mirror so I looked bent over to see feet in one of the stalls. It was her brown uggs, facing the toilet. Suddenly, I heard coughing and the sound of herself vomiting. I covered my mouth in shock. I didn't mean to get her that insecure that she would throw up; I just wanted payback for what she said to me. I heard the toilet flush and saw her walk out of the stall wiping her mouth. "What the hell do you want freakazoid?" "I heard." I said, my voice cracking. She walked until our noses almost met. "I swear to hell if you tell anyone I do this regularly, I will make your life a living hell." "You, you do this regularly?" I whispered harshly pointing to the stall. "If you tell anyone…" "I'm Julia." I said finally introducing myself. "Sarah." She stated coldly. "I won't tell." I told her. I needed to tell someone about this. A counselor, my parents, a teacher, someone.

I got out of school to see my mother waiting in her car in the parking lot. I jogged out and hopped in the shotgun seat. She smiled and looked at me. "How was your day, hon?" "Not bad," I said, slightly disturbed at what I heard earlier this morning. "Any good gossip?" My mother joked. "Nah, but..," My voice trailed off and I looked out the window. My mother started pulling out of the parking lot. "But what Julia?" "But, this girl… we were in the bathroom, and she made a snarky comment about how skinny I am. So, I got upset. I know I shouldn't care what people think but it still hurt. But then, I said something I, really, really, wish I didn't say. I didn't mean it either." "Well, what did you say?" "I, uh, called her, lumpy." "My mother started laughing. "Mom, this is serious." "Lumpy? Really?" I laughed, just enough for my chest to fall up and down twice. "Mom, I walked out of the bathroom, and forgot my hall pass. I walked back in, and I heard her making herself vomit. She told me she would make me, uh, pay if I told anyone." My mother instantly stopped laughing and looked at me. "Oh, baby." She pushed my crazy hair behind my ear and she looked at me. "What do I do mom? What if she, seriously, damages herself?" My mother directs her attention to the road. Finally, we pull into the driveway and she shuts off the car. Neither of us budge, and I turn to look at her. "You, need to tell someone Jules." "Before, something serious happens."

The next day I walked into school with my black backpack slung around my left shoulder. I stood in front of the guidance counselor's office and took a deep breath. I pushed open the door to see old Ms. Suave sitting at her antique desk in the corner. She looked up once she heard me close the door behind myself. "Hello, Ms., uh, I don't believe we have met before." "Hi, Ms. Suave, I'm Julia." "Julia…" "Goldsworthy." "Goldsworthy huh? Elijah Goldsworthy I presume?" "Uh yes, that's my father." "Did your mother attend Degrassi as well?" "Yes, Clare Edwards." "Ah. You have her eyes. I remember the little Edwards girls. Darcy and Clare looked absolutely nothing alike though… it seems you have your father in yourself as well." I looked down at my black hair, but realized she was noticing my green eye. I smiled and sat down where she pointed. "Please, get comfortable." I sat down with one leg crossed over the other; I usually sit Indian style but I felt that this was too series of an issue to look like a five year old. "So, what brings you here this morning Ms. Goldsworthy?" "Uh, well, you see, I was in the ladies room, and this girl was making herself vomit multiple times… and I'm worried, that it If didn't tell, well, something horrible might happen sooner or later." "Well, I'm glad you brought this to my attention. But, I would like you to know, accusing somebody of self-harm is extremely serious, and it is my job to inform you that jokes regarding these things will come with great costs if you are making it up." "No, mame, I saw it with my own eyes." "Well then, if I might ask for name, it is necessary to go any further." "Sarah Fitzgerald." "I know this is hard for you, but I'm glad you told someone." I plastered a fake smile and slowly got up. "Thank you," I said quickly hurrying to the door. While leaving, I saw Sarah catch me leaving the guidance counselors' office. I tried to hurry down the narrow hallway but she was too quick. She grabbed my shoulder coldly and spun me around to look her in the eye. "You better have not been in there for me," she said spitting each word like bullets. "Because, I hope you remember that I said there would be consequences." "Like what?" I snorted. "Are you going to cut all the hair off my Barbie dolls?" "Please, if I push you, you would probably run straight to the principal's office. I'm good with social damage though." She snarled and started down the hallway. Ms. Suave poked her head out of her office when she saw Sarah pass the door. "Ms. Fitzgerald, may I please see you in my office." She spun around and practically growled. She marched in the office without another word.

The next morning I woke up feeling nauseous. Just thinking about the face Sarah gave me made me gain a huge headache. I decided I would just try to get through the day, so I put on my black skinny jeans, American apparel grey v-neck, and my black converse. I tried to brush my hair, and then braided it down my hair and then swung it to the right side in front of my shoulder. I grabbed my backpack and went down stairs. "Who's driving today?" My mom asks while Nikki was sitting on my mothers lap. "I guess that would be me," my dad laughed. My father threw me a banana to eat in the car and I threw him the car keys. We drove to school and pulled up in the parking lot. I kissed him goodbye and ran inside so I wouldn't run out of time to collect my things from my locker. This girl I had never met before, who I usually see following Sarah walked up to me. I took a bite of the banana and threw my stuff in my locker. I turned around to took at her. "Oh, hey, your wasting food." "Huh?" "Your just going to throw it up anyway. Why can't you be happy with yourself, you boney freak." "Excuse me?" I didn't realize I was yelling. "Oh, the anorexic can't take a little criticism? What, are you going to go throw up now?" "No! What the hell are you talking about?" "Start eating and we'll talk!" She yelled, making sure everyone heard. My jaw dropped as she walked down the hallway every so often stopping to whisper and point me out to other students. I spun around deciding it would be worth it not to cross path with that girl again. I felt everyone's eyes on me. I felt pity; I could practically feel the awkwardness. Finally, I got into my English class and sat down. Everyone looked at me, they were scanning me head to toe, probably checking for any bones sticking out abnormally. It was free write Friday, so I pulled my old ipod classic from my pocket and stuffed my earphones in my ears. I blasted Brainstorm by the Arctic Monkeys. Music always helps me think. I picked up my pen, grabbed a piece of paper, and just started writing.

_Julia Goldsworthy 10/8/35_

_Ms. Dawes_ _Free write._

_Stares like chains_

_Weigh me down _

_They pull me backwards_

_I dig my feet in the dirt_

_I spit on the chains_

_I will not fall_

_They will not pull me away_

_From where I stand_

_I will dig my feet; I will spit on these chains_

_It will not take me down_

_So now, I dare you to yank this chain that holds me. I dare you. _

I lift my pen and smirk. Suddenly I feel a tap on my shoulder. I snapped my head back to see Oliver. I take my earphones out and smile. You can hear the music blasting from the headphones, so I quickly shut the ipod out. "Uh, hi." I saw nervously. "Hi," He said back. This time he was the one smirking. "So…" He whispered. "Coffee at the Dot after school?" "Sure," I say biting the cap on the back of my pen. "But wait, you want to go get coffee with the anorexic? Aren't you afraid I'll throw up the coffee?" I joked. He laughed. "I never believe rumors. I had a feeling you were too smug to be that insecure anyway," He laughed. I smirked and turned around. I smiled and put my headphones back in.

_Although they tug, although they pull_

_I will not go down alone. I will not._


End file.
